


A Cold Night in Hoth

by StarfighterCommand



Category: Star Wars Episode V: Empire Strikes Back
Genre: Crack, Cuddling, Cute, Fluff, M/M, Silly, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 06:24:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4866425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarfighterCommand/pseuds/StarfighterCommand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a base made out of ice, Wedge has some extra warm. Tycho wants in on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Cold Night in Hoth

**Author's Note:**

> This fic presumes that Wedge, as one of the founders of Rogue, has his own quarters separate from the rest of the squadron. Because otherwise the fic doesn't work. XD

The minute he heard Hoth had been confirmed as the new base, Wedge Antilles had done two things. The first was to purchase the thickest long underwear he could find. The second had been securing a decent sized piece of bantha hide and having it lined with that same thermal material, with a good layer of down in between. 

As a result, though he returned from the day’s last briefing to a room carved out of solid ice and colder than a meat locker, he was able to shuck his flight suit and immediately slide beneath the thick blanket. A soft sigh of satisfaction was pulled from him as he wrapped it tight around him and slowly, for the first time all day, began to feel warm.

Which was why the knock at his door popped open one bloodshot eye and provoked a growl. “Go away. I don’t even care if the Imps are invading, I’m not getting out of this bed.”

“But it’s cold out here!” The voice on the other side of the door was plaintive and hung just on the edge of a whine.

“Tycho, _go away_. It’s cold in here, too, which is why I’m not getting out of bed,” Wedge groaned and rolled over onto his stomach, pulling his pillow over his head, “It’s not like I could turn the heat up in here without flooding myself out.”

“No, but you could be hiding a very non-regulation blanket in there,” Tycho sounded smug, “Now open the damned door.”

Wedge cursed fluently in all the languages he knew and a few he didn’t, reluctantly slithering out from under his little cocoon of warmth. The frigid air of the room hit him like a slap, sending shivers up his spine as he hurried over to the door and yanked it open to glare murderously at the other pilot. 

“You have got to be kidding me. How’d you find out?”

“I have my ways,” Tycho Celchu was doing his best not to grin, Wedge knew it. He’d seen that look far too often when the Alderaanian pilot managed to tag him in the simulators. “Mainly, your flight suit’s been shedding bantha hair all over.”

“And what makes you think I’m gonna share?” Wedge said, raising an eyebrow. He crossed his arms and leaned against the door, a gesture meant to look casual but that was mostly to keep him from shivering quite so much. “Gonna tattle to our superiors?”

“Worse. I’ll just tell the squadron.” Now Tycho did grin, and continued, “Poor Hobbie wakes up blue in the mornings. Wes is _constantly_ moaning about how he’ll never be warm again. And, Luke...well, Luke’s about desperate enough for heat to go sleep in the tauntaun pens. Any one of them would just love to know that you’re holding out on them.”

Tycho’s expression made Wedge want to sock him a good one. The Corellian pilot faced down the Alderaanian for a long minute, frowning spectacularly, but he was beaten, and he knew it as well as Tycho did.

“Well, get in here then, Sithspawn...the blankets will already be getting cold!” Wedge sighed and stepped aside to let the sandy-haired pilot in, outwardly snarling but fighting a small smile that threatened to tug up the corners of his mouth. “One word about this to _anyone_ and you’re vape-bait, got it?”

“Copy that, Commander,” Tycho said in a mock-serious voice, sketching a salute. Wedge just snorted and burrowed back under the furry rug-blanket.

“Shut up, stay on that side, and you better not snore.”

“Me? Snore?” Tycho’s tone was a bit too wounded to be believed. “I’ll have you know that--oooohhhhhh, Stars, that feels good.”

Wedge glared at Tycho, who had just slipped under the covers himself. “And you do _not_ make noises like that while you are in a bed with me. I’ll dump you out on the floor myself and pour water over you.”

“You’re so cruel,” Tycho grinned.

“Don’t test me,” Wedge grumbled and buried his face in his pillow. “Now shut up and go to sleep. I have the dawn patrol tomorrow.”

“Mmmm…” Tycho pulled the thick blanket closer around himself.

“What did I just say?” Wedge growled, “Last thing I need is someone seeing you sneak in here and then hearing that.”

“Well, if they’re going to talk anyway...” Tycho’s insolent grin was back, and Wedge rolled his eyes.

“Tycho, that is a terrible idea.”

“No, a terrible idea is trying to make love in the cockpit of a snubfighter. It seems great at the time, but it’s cramped, it’s impossible to get comfortable, and you just know one of you is going to kick the eject at exactly the wrong moment.”

“I don’t want to know how you know that,” Wedge turned his head to eye Tycho balefully.

“Let’s just say that bacta was required for the aftermath and leave it at that.”

“I said I don’t want to know,” Wedge snarled, and jammed his pillow over his head again. “Just...go to sleep. _Please_.”

“Right.” 

The silence held just long enough for Wedge to find himself on the edge of sleep, eyes drooping closed...

“Uh, Wedge?”

“ _What._ ” 

“I’m still too cold.”

Wedge pushed himself up onto his elbows and speared Tycho with a glare. “Oh, no. No. I know what you’re thinking and it’s not going to happen. You just stay over there.”

“It’s not like anyone’s gonna know…” 

“NO.”

“Fine then,” Tycho said, sulking, “Just let me freeze to death.”

“If I’m lucky, it’ll be your mouth that freezes first,” Wedge growled and turned his back to the other pilot, “And then maybe I’ll actually get some sleep.”

Mercifully, after that, Tycho stayed quiet. Wedge let himself drift off, his breathing slowing, the warmth gradually relaxing him again. After a few minutes drowsing, he felt the bed shift as Tycho slid a little closer and Wedge realized Tycho thought he was asleep. He thought about saying something, but decided to wait and see what exactly Tycho was going to do.

Slowly, with long pauses in between to make sure he hadn’t been noticed, Tycho moved over until his chest was pressed against Wedge’s back. Wedge could feel his hot breath feathering the hair at the nape of his neck, and watched as the other pilot slowly slipped an arm over his side.

_He’ll say he did it while he was asleep in the morning_ , Wedge thought. He knew he should say something, but he told himself that he was just too exhausted to bother. Besides, the extra warmth was nice, and the feel of Tycho’s heartbeat against his back was soothing. _I can always yell at him tomorrow._

Wedge let his eyes close. And he almost managed to convince himself that as he drifted off to sleep at last, he wasn’t smiling.


End file.
